#fics that aren't mine

[chatxkilluaxnoir]

This was just such a good reblog talking about this fic and it's first chapter, that I just HAD to reblog it.

Also:

I loved these tags of urs SO much. Like talking some about Mallory. Mentioning Lucy Ann not telling Dipper, and how they are probably gonna have a good laugh when he remembers (lol, they probably are, hahaha). And the stuff u said about Dipper's characterization!

Like yes, it s so good, and it is nice seeing the things u mentioned in the tags here in the fic.

Dipper's characterization is just so good, and I am excited to see more of him and it in this fic, hopefully.

Excited to see more of their parents and Lucy Ann and Mallory (and etc.) too, hopefully, ofc.

Return, to the Scene of the Crime

Playing human again, Alcor makes it longer than he usually does. He's in college now, juggling classes, family, a curious vampire, and a strange, increasingly sinister web of mysteries weaving themselves around him. Without his omniscience to guide the way, he'll have to work hard to get to the bottom of this before it spirals out of control.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

______________________________________________________________

Lucy Ann was asleep when her phone rang. She grumbled and turned over, fishing in her pocket to mute it. Then it rang again, and with a heavy sigh, she cracked open an eyelid to see who it was.

“Alcor,” she muttered. “Ugh… fine, alright.”

Sitting up, she pushed the lid of the coffin open, and shielded her phone from the screams in the funeral home as she put it to her ear.

“Yeah, what?”

“Lucy Ann?”

“Yeah, it’s me, dude.” She rubbed her eyes. “What is it? Kinda in the middle of something here.”

“Oh, do you want me to – I can call back-”

“What is it?”

She heard him take a deep breath, and rolled her eyes. She stood up and stretched as he seemed to collect his thoughts.

“I…” he started. “I’m going away for a while. I wanted to call you before I… I won’t be summonable, so I wanted to let you know how to, how to reach me if you need me.”

“Ah, this is one of these Noie deals, huh? Glad you’re finally giving me a heads up.”

“Yeah, I don’t – I-I know how it went last time, I don’t want that to happen again.”

Lucy Ann glanced down at the glove on her hand. He kept going.

“So I’m giving you a special circle you can use to contact me – uh, it’ll break my enchantments, so if it could be an emergencies only kind of thing…?”

“Got it.”

“Okay… yeah, thanks. And if you need to see me in person, I’ll be down in the California Isles. The family’s really nice – they, hah, they actually own a funeral home-”

“No way! In Maine?”

“In- no, California. I just told you-”

“Oh, yeah! Right.” Lucy Ann gave a little chuckle as she looked at an urn. “Sorry, I got carried away there. That would’ve been a hell of a coincidence.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it, uh,” she cleared her throat. “Okay. That sounds good. Thanks for letting me know, Al.”

“Of course. I’ll send the circle to you and then… get set up.” He seemed like he wanted to say more; after a moment, he spoke again. “So, uh, see you in a couple decades?”

“Yeah, see you then,” she said, and then grinned. “Or who knows, maybe I’ll pay a visit.”

“Pay a visit? What?”

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll see if you loosen up a bit without that demon angst you’ve always got going on.” She heard him laugh, and gave a little chuckle herself… but soon it faded, and she cleared her throat again. “Uh, anyway, good luck with that, I guess. See you around.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you.”

When Lucy Ann hung up the call, the little joke she’d made about dropping in on him had already slipped her mind. For almost twenty years she went on wandering as she always did, thinking of Alcor only rarely, wondering how he was doing. She wasn’t ever thinking of actually following through on that joke… but, you know, sometimes things don’t happen for anything as grand as fate or careful planning.

Sometimes they just fall into place.

She was bouncing around the Isles when she remembered Alcor. googled the name of that funeral home he’d given her, as she sometimes did – just to see if they were still in business, but she came across a little blog post the owners posted: ‘HE GOT INTO HONORS COLLEGE!!!’ It was a picture of Dipper with a dorky smile and a graduation cap, and she couldn’t help but snicker to herself at the glowing paragraphs his parents had posted to their business page. Jeez, he was still going, wasn’t he? She didn’t want to be rude on the phone, but she was expecting this thing to flame out early as it usually did.

So… he was just living the regular human life, huh?

Huh.

…

Lucy Ann looked around the motel room she was in, decided she didn’t have anything interesting going on, and started packing.

______________________________________________________________

“Murdered! She was murdered!”

“Dude.”

“I can’t believe it, who would do this! I just can’t-”

“Dude, Darren!” Dipper put his hands on the guy’s shoulders. “Keep your voice down. I thought you came to me because you didn’t want the RA to hear!”

Lucy Ann chuckled a bit as Darren shut his mouth. She watched Dipper walk back to the bird cage under the dorm room bed. There was a little pile of ash under the perch; opening the cage, he pinched some between his fingers.

“Look,” Dipper said. “Nobody killed your phoenix, okay? This isn’t phoenix ash.”

“Wha- what?”

“Phoenix ash is highly magical.” He brought out a little necklace tucked under his shirt; there was a dull blue glass pendant on the end of it, and nothing happened when he brought the ash to it. “See? My necklace lights up when it’s repelling magic, and it’s getting nothing here. It’s just regular ash.”

Darren sniffed and wiped his nose. “So… so Flamey’s alive?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, man, she’s alive.” He paused, meaningfully. “But… someone wanted you to think she was dead.”

Darren gasped. Lucy Ann watched with a grin as Dipper got to his feet, dusting off his hands.

“My guess is it’s some kind of prank, but it could be that someone stole your phoenix for themselves. Who else knows about Flamey?”

“I-I don’t… no one, I think!” He wrung his shirt. “I mean my dorm mate does, but he wouldn’t steal her – Alex hates living with her!”

“Hates living with her, eh?” Lucy Ann raised her eyebrows at Dipper. “Maybe it’s not been stolen to keep.”

“That’s exactly what I thought,” Dipper nodded to himself. Darren leaned in further.

“You think… you think Alex murdered Flamey?”

“No, I told you, no one murdered-” There was a knock at the door just then, and Dipper looked up. “Hello?”

“Uh, hello?” Said the voice. “This is my room, who’s in here?”

“That’s Alex,” Darren murmured, and then he called out: “Just some friends of mine!”

The door opened slowly, and Alex popped his head in, frowning. “Uh, okay. Hey, Darren, how long are they gonna be here? I’ve gotta study.”

“Oh, we’re just wrapping up,” Dipper said, letting what he probably thought was a very sly smile snake across his face. “But, uh… Alex, was it? I just got one question for you.”

“Uh, sure?”

“You got a lighter?”

Alex frowned. “A lighter? No.”

“Oh, okay.” Dipper glanced across the room. “That’s weird, then. You got a scented candle on your desk.”

Darren groaned. “I hate that candle, man, it smells like old people. And isn’t it, like, a fire hazard?”

“Fire hazard?” Alex crossed his arms. “Seriously, man? You’re going on about a fire hazard?”

“You don’t like that he keeps a phoenix under his bed, do you?”

Alex blinked, and then scowled at Dipper. “Yeah, duh, would you?”

“So you stole it.”

“So- wait, what? I didn’t – hey, who is this guy, Darren?”

“You stole Flamey?” Darren stared slackjawed at him. “You did, didn’t you!”

“And then you burned some paper and planted it in her cage so he’d think she was dead.” Dipper crossed his arms. “Pets aren’t allowed in the dorms, so you thought Darren wouldn’t report it to anybody. It was the perfect crime!”

“I… I…” Alex blinked a few times, then huffed and threw up his hands. “Okay, fine! I gave her to my aunt!��

“Alex!”

“And I’d do it again! You know what the real crime is? Keeping a flaming fucking bird in a tiny cage under your bed! I was doing you and her a favour!”

“I can’t believe you! You get her back, okay! You get her back or, or… or I’ll tell the RA about the candles!”

“Oh-hoh, okay, you tell them about the candles and I’ll tell them about the giant bird you had under your bed! We’ll see what they’re more interested in!”

“Flamey!”

Dipper and Lucy Ann strolled out of the dorm room together. Lucy Ann took one look at his smug face and poked him in the ribs.

“Wha- hey! What was that for?”

“If your head gets any bigger it’s not gonna fit in the doorway.” She smirked at him. “I guess you did okay, though. Quick thinking on the ash.”

“Yeah, heh…” He rubbed his side. “That was not what I expected when Darren came over. Still, that was pretty good, wasn’t it? It was like being a detective!”

“You’re a real Sherlock Holmes.”

With a laugh, Dipper unlocked his dorm, held it open for her, and followed her in. It was a tiny space, but at least it was a one-bedroom; a bunk bed slotted against one wall, and a desk was crammed against the other, leaving only a narrow walkway from the door to a tiny square of window. Dipper’s desk was covered in books and notes; his magi-orb was open but asleep, and he made his way over to wake it up.

On the way, he got a little tangled with the sleeping bag on the floor – more accurately, this used to be a one-bedroom. Lucy Ann snorted.

“Hey, you’re stepping on my pillows!”

“Oops, sorry.” He watched her lounge out on the floor with a raised eyebrow. “You know, you sure you still want to stay here?”

“Yup.” She picked up a book beside her bed, and glanced over at him. “What, you tired of me?”

“No, no! I just – I mean, it’s been so cool to meet the real Lucy Ann, but I still don’t get why you’ve decided to hang around me.” He watched her face twist into a knowing grin, and rolled his eyes. “You’re never gonna tell me why, are you.”

She just winked at that, and buried her head in her book. Shaking his head, he turned back to his magi-orb and tapped it a few times; it flared to life, and Dipper’s necklace gave off a soft blue glow as he started scrolling. A news article popped up, and he clicked on it.

“Huh.” He said to himself. “Hey, you remember that jewellery store robbery last week?”

“No.”

“It was that one super close to campus – we got alerts about it.”

She just shrugged, so he started reading off the article.

“Suspect in jewellery store stick up still at large after mysterious disappearance, magical influence suspected.” His eyes skipped further down. “Oh, nice, looks like the guy he shot got out of the hospital today.”

“Good for him.”

“Mysterious disappearance… they say he went into a back room away from the cameras and just disappeared. No windows in the room either, isn’t that weird?”

Finally, Lucy Ann glanced up from her book and gave him an odd look. “Yeah, I guess it’s weird. Why, you wanna rob a jewellery store or something? It’s not as fun as it sounds.”

“No, I’m just… how did he disappear like that?” He sat back in his chair, stroking his chin. “I mean, locked room, no windows-”

Lucy Ann let out the biggest groan. “Oh, no. You call a guy Sherlock once and he becomes insufferable – if you start reading every random crime report to me I really will leave, okay?”

“Okay, okay!” He put his hands up. “Sheesh. I just thought it was a cool mystery. You don’t have to bite my head off.”

“I’m not biting your head off, I’m just saying that’s cop shit.” She flashed a fanged grin at him. “Come on, your life’s too short to care who makes off with some pretty rocks or whatever. The world’s full of way more interesting mysteries than that.”

“Hm.” He sat there for a second, and then reached out and closed the news article. “I guess you’re right.”

She watched him sit back, and sat up. “Hey, you wanna do something tonight?”

“Huh?”

“You know, go out somewhere. I saw this thing the other day for an escape room – you ever done one of those?”

“I haven’t. That sounds cool, but…”

“You gotta study?”

“Ahh,” he checked his phone. “Actually, Mom texted, asked if I could drop some groceries off at home tonight. I’ll probably stay for dinner.”

“Oh, okay.” Lucy Ann sat back and picked up her book again. “Sounds good.”

______________________________________________________________

Quicksilver Funeral Home & Crematory was on the southernmost tip of the New Fresno Peninsula, about a fifty minute’s drive from Dipper’s university. It was, politely, in the middle of nowhere; Dipper always smiled when he remembered the long, lazy days he spent in the forests behind his house… just as much as he’d remember the long drive to school, the friends he could never casually invite over. As remote as it was, though, his dad always liked to remind him that at least they were on the mainland.

“Oh, we’re hardly in the middle of nowhere, son. If you wanna see the middle of nowhere, take a skylift out to one of those floating islands down south. Poor saps are so remote their dead get brought to us in helicopters!”

It was, if not a convincing argument, a very illustrative one. Dipper thought of his dad’s voice as he pulled up the driveway, and a little grimace tugged his lips down. He turned off his car, glanced at the groceries on the seat next to him, and sighed.

Then he sat up, opened the door, and got out. Picking up the groceries, he made his way to the side entrance and rang the doorbell. There was a muffled, “I got it,” and footsteps up to the door.

It unlatched, swung open, and revealed his sister in the doorway. Mallory nodded at him.

“Hey,” she said, and stepped aside to let him in. He smiled at her.

“Hey, Mal. Got the groceries!”

“I see that. Need a hand?”

“No, I got it, thanks.” He headed down the hallway into the kitchen. “Hey, Mom! That smells great!”

“Dipper!” His Mom looked up from a pot of bubbling soup; her face creased into a smile, and she gave him a big hug. “It’s so great to see you, honey!”

“It’s great to see you too – oh, watch out, eggs!” He put the bags on the counter before hugging back. “How’ve you been? Where’s Dad?”

“He’s in the living room with Mallory – I can put all this away if you wanna see him!”

“You sure?”

“Of course! He’ll be delighted to see you!”

The living room was just around the corner; Dipper hesitated for a second before walking in.

“Hey, Dad.”

His Dad was sitting back in his favourite green armchair, and for a second Dipper could just pretend he’d fallen asleep in it as he loved to do, and him and Mallory were two giggling kids about to balance as many toys as they could on his body until he finally woke up, made a show of stretching and going, “Whoa, what’s all this!” as they both shrieked with laughter. He could see it so clearly… but then there was the bed behind him, hastily dragged down the stairs into the living room, and the hospital wheelchair at the foot of it. His Dad’s eyes were closed, but they were struggling to open; his head fell to the side, and he gave a lopsided smile, a weak wave. Dipper waved back, and then he moved in closer to give him a hug.

“It’s good to see you.” He said, squeezing carefully, and then standing up. Mallory put a hand on his shoulder; he glanced at her. “How’s he… I-I mean, how’re you doing, Dad?”

There was a pause, and then his hand flopped very deliberately to the side, as if to say, “How do you think?” His eyebrow quirked up too, and Dipper gave a little laugh.

“Yeah, hah, makes, makes sense.”

“We’ve been doing some exercises,” Mallory said; she turned on the TV, picked up a foam ball, and gently opened their Dad’s hand to place it in. “Do you know there’s one where you’re supposed to crumple up a sheet of paper? That’s been my favourite.”

“Hah, really?” He looked towards the bin, which was overflowing with tightly-crumpled balls of notepaper. “Hey, he’s doing really well on that one!”

Mallory didn’t respond; she shrugged obliquely, and then crushed a sheet of paper between her hands. His smile turned awkward.

“Oh, uh…” He rubbed his neck. “So! What are we watching?”

Dinner was ready soon. Dipper helped his Dad into the wheelchair, and Mallory guided him into the dining room. Their Mom had set out plates; they all took a seat, Mallory next to her Dad. Dipper watched him pick up a spoon with a shaking hand and dip it into the soup.

“So how’re classes going, honey?”

“Huh?” Dipper blinked, and looked to his Mom. “Oh! Um, they’re going good… yeah, good.”

“That’s good.” She smiled. “Midterms are coming up, aren’t they?”

“Yeah!”

“Ooh, how’re you feeling about that?”

“Pretty, pretty prepared, I think!” He grinned. “And then it’ll be winter break soon! I can come back home for Christmas.”

“That’ll be great, honey! We’ve missed having you around. And you know, we could use a little help around the-”

“I’m doing the best I can.”

Mallory’s voice cut her right off. She saw them both stare at her, and narrowed her eyes.

“What? I just said I’m doing the best I can.” She glared at their Mom. “You’re talking like I’m not doing anything around here, I just wanted to say I am doing stuff, okay?”

“I didn’t say that, honey, we really appreciate-”

“I know, I’m just saying-”

“-could help take some things off your plate-”

“I was just saying-!” Mallory stopped and put up her hands. “You know what, forget I said anything.”

“Honey-”

“I said forget it, Mom.”

“But-”

“Forget it, okay? I don’t want to do this again.”

The room froze into a tense silence. Dipper glanced nervously between the two of them, and took a long drink of water. There was a grunting sound from across the table; their Dad was pointing at something.

“Dad?” Dipper blinked. “What do you-”

“He wants the salt.” Mallory rubbed her forehead. “Dad, I told you, you’re not supposed to have too much-”

“Oh, just give him the salt, dear.”

Mallory froze. She looked up at their Mom, grabbed the salt, and slammed it down on the table next to their Dad before getting up and walking away. A door shut hard down the hallway; their Mom gave Dipper a tight smile.

“Sorry, honey.” She said. “She’s not… she’s finding this all a bit hard to adjust to. But she’s really happy to see you!”

“Yeah…” Dipper looked down at the soup. He half stood up; then looked at her. “Can I…?”

“Oh, of course! She’s probably in the crematorium.”

Dipper nodded, and followed after her. There was a door by the stairs that opened into the main foyer of the funeral home; he passed by the front desk, by an empty viewing room filled with chairs, up to a door tucked away in the back with a very clear ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY’ sign. Through there was the crematorium: its concrete floors, stainless steel gurneys, and safety tape stood in stark, clinical contrast to the rest of the building, but Dipper had long since gotten used to this place. The shining metal cremation machine dominated the middle of the space, and though it wasn’t on, there was a whirring sound behind it. Dipper walked past a row of body freezers set into the wall to find Mallory.

“Uh, hey,” he said. She was standing arms crossed in front of a little glass kiln, and didn’t look up at his voice. He hung back, a nervous smile on his face. “Mal? Are you okay?”

Mallory raised her eyebrows. “Oh, yeah,” she said. “Doing great.”

“Mal-”

“You want a plate?” She sifted through a little pile of things next to the kiln. “I was saving this for you – here.”

She held out a small, multicoloured glass plate. Dipper blinked as he took it from her; he held it up to the light, and marvelled at the colours splashing on the side of his hand. “Wow, this is really pretty! Is this enchanted too?”

The slight smile on Mallory’s face vanished. “No, it’s just a plate. Why would I enchant a plate?”

“Oh, I just-”

“Your necklace was a lot of work, you know. I don’t do that for every single thing I make! Sometimes I just want to make a fucking plate, okay?”

“Okay, sorry!” He watched her turn away. “Mal, I’m sorry! I didn’t- it’s really good, thank you!”

“Oh, I don’t know, you sure you don’t want me to melt it down and put an enchantment on it first?”

“No, no…” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Mal, that was really dumb of me. I really like the plate, okay? Thank you for giving it to me.”

“Hm.” She stayed like that for a second, then looked back and grinned at him. “You’re welcome, dummy. I’m glad you like it.”

He grinned back. “I do, it’s really beautiful! How’d you get all the colours like that? I’ve never seen something like this from you.”

“Huh, that? Oh, I started buying this coloured glass scrap.” She opened a drawer; in it was a box full of big and small shards of coloured glass. “You can get it in bulk for super cheap – nobody gave me a scholarship for this, so I make do.”

Another sharp remark – Dipper cringed again. “Mal?” He asked, and she started picking through the shards. “Are you… is everything okay?”

“No, obviously, everything’s not okay.” She took a look at his expression and rolled her eyes. “Look, it’s not- I’ll survive. It’s fine.”

“Mal…”

“It’s hard on us all right now, okay?” She sighed. “I shouldn’t have done that with Mom over dinner. She’s just been – just been getting on my nerves lately, you know?” She picked up a blue shard, and looked through it. “Just on and on about how I’m so good with the families, I should totally take over!”

Dipper rolled his eyes. “Oh, god, yeah.”

“She even found a mortuary sciences course at my college, just tried to ‘casually’ bring it up to me the other day.” A chuckle. “You know how she acts when she thinks she’s being subtle.”

“Heh, yeah… how’s your classes going?”

“I withdrew this semester.”

“Oh… Oh, jeez, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.” He watched her pause, staring into the middle distance. He stepped a little closer. “You know, Mom and Dad always said they only wanted us to take over if we wanted to. I don’t think she’d want you to feel obligated.”

“Yeah, but I am obligated, aren’t I?” She glared at him. “What are they gonna do now if I leave? Mom can't run this whole place on her own.”

“They always said they’d hire-”

“Hire someone else, yeah, like they can afford that right now.” Rolling her eyes, she pushed off the counter and started pacing. “And they can’t sell the place either – where’s Mom gonna find another job? No, unless Dad gets better fast, I’m stuck here.”

“You’re not-” Dipper struggled for words. “You don’t have to… it’s not your responsibility. They wouldn’t want you to feel like this.”

“Oh, okay then.” She stopped, and looked straight at him. “So how about I leave, and you come back home to take care of Dad. How’s that sound?”

Dipper blinked. “I…” he started, and frowned as she flashed a grin. “Hey, come on, Mal, that’s not… You’re not being fair.”

She scoffed at that, and crossed her arms.

“Mal-”

“I’m not actually asking you to do that – obviously. But it’s you or me, okay? And if it’s gonna be me, can you stop acting like I could just walk away from them?”

Dipper hesitated, and then he sighed. “You’re… you’re right. I’m sorry. That sounds really hard.”

“Thank you,” she rubbed her eyes. “Look, how about you just go back to dinner?”

“What? What about you?”

“I’ll be out in a bit, I just…” She looked back at the shards she’d taken out, picked one up, and tossed it back into the drawer. “I just need to cool off.”

“Wh… you sure? I can stay here if you-”

“It’s fine.” Glancing back at him, she managed a smile. “It’s fine, okay? I’ll be out soon.”

Dipper lingered for a second longer, and then, with a sigh, he turned and made for the door. One last glance over the shoulder showed how he left her: a small figure hunched over a desk, disappearing behind the machinery.

He opened the door, and walked away.

______________________________________________________________

“You’re back late,” Lucy Ann said as he made his way into his dorm the next morning. “I thought you were only staying for dinner?”

“Yeah… I was just, I was trying to be helpful.” He closed the door, and leaned against it for a second. “It’s just… it’s like… do you think I’m…?”

Lucy Ann watched him for a moment, her eyebrow slowly arching. “Do I think you’re what?”

“It’s… nevermind.” With a sigh, he went to his desk and tapped his magi-orb. “I’m only here to pick up some stuff for class. Are you coming?”

“Depends, what you got on?”

“Uh… public speaking’s first – shoot, my presentation’s today!”

With a cackle she hopped to her feet. “Oh, I’m definitely coming for that one!”

Dipper shook his head at her, but before he could reply, there came a knock at the door. Lucy Ann groaned.

“Shit, is that the RA?”

“I’ll see… uh, hello? Who is it?”

“Dude, it’s Darren!”

“Oh, thank the stars.” She dropped her sleeping bag. “I didn’t want to have to hide again.”

Dipper frowned as he opened the door. “Darren? What’s up?”

“Hey, dude!” Darren looked a little out of breath, but he perked up at the sight of him. “Oh, I forgot to tell you the other day – thanks for finding Flamey for me! Alex drove me over and-”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome,” Dipper started to close the door. “Look, I gotta get to class-”

“Oh, wait! That wasn’t what I came over for!”

“Huh?”

“I was telling my buddy Marsh about how you found her the other day – and you know, Alex’s aunt, she actually has a whole aviary, it’s amazing! She has so much room to fly around-”

“Darren…”

“Right, right! So I was telling Marsh about how crazy it was when you put all the clues together, and he was saying he could use your help!”

Lucy Ann snorted. “Congrats, on the new job, Dipper. Campus animal control.”

“I don’t-” Dipper looked from her to Darren. “I don’t know, man. What’s the problem?”

“It was something about a weird ghost in his apartment… I-I don’t remember exactly, but I said I’d give you his number and he could tell you about it!”

“A ghost?” Dipper blinked. He opened the door a little wider. “Huh… Uh, yeah, what’s his number? I gotta go… like right now, but I can call him after class! What was his name, Marsh?”

Behind them, Lucy Ann shook her head. She wanted to know what he was like without demon powers?

It turns out he wasn’t so different – he could still be such a dork.

[drenched-in-sunlight]

saying this as respectfully as possible but. Do not put fandom content creators on a pedestal. We are also just fans contributing to a community just as you are. We have boundary on our own work and that’s it. What I say is not and should not be considered sth the whole fandom should listen to. I’m just a normal ass person ranting about things on my blog. If it does not have a fandom tag for others to engage in, do not make it out to be me trying to start fights or addressing the whole community. Because it’s not.

I’ve said it before and I will say it again, my art, my lore talk, is biased. I’ve never tried to hide that I view Marika a certain way and will always develop my theory following that base assumption.

Aside from translation stuffs and pointing out in-game items, everything else I say you can look at it, agree or disagree, and move on to form your own opinions. Just because I draw stuffs doesn’t mean you get to saddle me with responsibilities about managing fandom expectations. What the hell? I’m a fan artist, I’m the last person who you should look at for “leaderism” (?) WHAT?

I can and will be a hater in my own space, like I know sometimes other artists will just post their stuffs and not engage too heavily with fandom, and for a while I did try to do that here (because I’m already a dramatic ass on twitter), that’s just not me though.

You will get art and you will get my opinions as well.

[radioactivepeasant]

Free Day Friday: Trespasser

(From the poll: "In Which the Demolition Duo made it to the Wastelands without being banished because They Are Trespassing)

Damas was not, by and large, a religious man. He didn't worship Precursors -- there were some who insisted that his ousting from Haven was divine punishment for his arrogance -- nor spirits. If spirits could be killed, so could Precursors. That made them oracles, elders to be respected for unique perspectives on time, but not gods in Damas’s opinion.

Which made it an oddity to find him in the temple.

He sat on the shallow steps, staring up at the six carved heads meant to represent Precursors. More insectoid than Oracles, or perhaps just more elaborate. They seemed to wear headdresses over their bizarre masks.

"If you, by action or inaction, let Mar die, then at least have the decency to tell me," he whispered into the empty air.

"You always foretold a future moment of need that my House would answer. Has that need passed unnoticed that you stay silent while my bloodline ends? Or does my son live?"

The masks were silent, of course. Carved stone could neither hear nor speak.

Ungrateful wretches. Damas had a fleeting thought that perhaps they'd allowed -- or even orchestrated -- the abduction of his little son because he wasn't servile and "pious" enough for their tastes.

Damas wondered if spirits could harm Precursors. If perhaps the "Good Grandmother"*, She-Who-Hears-Them-Cry, might take an interest if something in this temple had been directly involved in bringing Mar to harm.

Má took her payment even from the hides of fellow spirits, after all.

"Even if you were capable of bringing him back unharmed, I very much doubt you would," Damas whispered harshly to the open air. His throat bobbed with a painful, bitter anger.

"But if you took him, you owe blood-debt to my House, old ones. So grant closure or sit in your realm knowing that I will seek answers among others as old as you."

Was it wise to threaten the Precursors? Damas neither knew nor cared anymore. Two years he'd barely survived having his heart metaphorically ripped out of his chest.

What more could they do to him? Really, what could they possibly do that could be worse than not knowing?

No answer arrived, not that it surprised him. Damas sighed and braced his elbows against his knees, head in his hands.

Stone grated against stone and metal to his left, and he turned his head swiftly.

There was a door there, one heavily fortified with traps. A hovering Sentinel eye kept watch for movement, designed to activate a spike trap if anyone tried to enter the lower levels without permission. And if someone managed to somehow get past that, the door would still be sealed. Whether by an enterprising ancestor of his or by meddling Precursors, that door could not be opened without an Heir of Mar. Damas was the only one who had ever been beyond it.

It should not have opened even an inch.

And yet Damas was witnessing the two mighty halves forcing themselves apart with a tortured groan born of idleness.

He was on his feet in an instant, ready for a fight. There was no chance that this heralded anything good.

"Whoa!"

That was a hu'men voice.

Damas’s hand hovered over his sidearm, ready to draw the moment he saw a face.

"And I thought this place was huge before!"

It was a young voice. High and a little squeaky.

"It just keeps going, doesn't it?" laughed a second voice, deeper, but just as young.

And then the doors were open wide enough to see the silhouette in between them.

And more importantly, to see the object glowing faintly in his outstretched fist.

Damas’s mouth was dry as he fumbled for the pouch between belt and leather armor where he kept his own amulet of Mar. He knew the shape by heart: twin comets orbiting each other, over stylized hands.

Thief-!

Pure, outraged, fury burned through his veins for a moment. Who had this scrawny figure stolen that amulet from? Heaven forbid it be Mar's amulet, lest Damas murder this boy before his very next step.

"Identify yourself!" Damas shouted, raising his gun.

The figure stepped into view. He was small, so thin his clothes hung loosely on scrawny limbs, but he held himself like a warrior.

"People!"

The animal curled around his shoulders sat upright and spoke.

"Jak! There's real people in here! We're saved!"

Odd reaction to a man pointing a gun at them.

The boy eased a step forward, hands raised as if soothing a frightened animal. He still held the incriminating amulet in his hand.

"Whoa, okay, put the gun down. I don't want to hurt anybody-"

He took a step too far and the sentinel flashed. The spikes shot up out of the floor with a faint shunk!

With a yelp, the boy leapt back -- he was surprisingly light on his feet for someone wearing boots two sizes too big. Then, as if the nearly fatal encounter was no more than a slight inconvenience, he backed up, got a running start, and launched.

He kicked off the wall, seeming to find handholds in the tiniest of crevices as he bypassed the spikes entirely.

Once on the ground again, the boy dusted himself off.

"You okay, Dax?"

"Just peachy, considering you almost dropped me!"

"Did not!" the hu'men boy protested in annoyance.

He really was small.

The general gangly sprawl of his limbs suggested he would gain an impressive height, but for now he just looked..small.

And entirely too excited.

"Who....do you- Where did you come from?" Damas demanded.

The boy pointed back down at the steps and shrugged before scratching his head.

"Exploring?"

Oh that green hair hurt to look at. It was filthy, and matted, like it hadn't been correctly washed in years. He couldn't even determine the age of the trespasser, what with the layers of grime embedded into every crevice of his face. The clothes were just as stained with sweat, dirt, and what looked to be bloodstains. From traps?

"Exploring."

Damas repeated the stranger's explanation incredulously. "How did you even get in here?"

The boy and the orange animal looked at each other for a curiously long moment. They seemed to be having a conversation merely by narrowing and widening their eyes in turn. Then, seeming to come to an agreement, they shrugged and turned back to face Damas.

The boy pointed down a barely visible flight of rough-hewn stone steps, lit by torches.

"We came up through the catacombs."

There were catacombs? He hadn't seen anything like that down there, and Damas liked to think he'd made it pretty far! He examined the stranger more closely, avoiding his eyes -- they're not familiar, you're just projecting your grief -- and avoiding looking at the talking weasel thing. He saw sunken cheeks drawn tightly against sharp cheekbones. A pale, barely visible scar across the bridge of his nose. Deep, deep shadows beneath his eyes. How large was the temple, altogether? Were there more people living below their feet?

"How...long were you down there?" he asked after a few seconds.

"Trust me pal," the weasel-rabbit said, "he smelled like this before we got in that zoomer."

"Hey!"

"What zoomer?!" Damas asked, feeling more confused than before.

"The one we took through the lava tube to the catacombs."

Damas was beginning to wonder if he'd somehow inhaled the monks' incense by accident.

The trespasser cringed as if only just noticing the bewildered and only barely softened hostility on Damas’s face. He shoved his amulet -- not his, it can't be his, there aren't any more of us left!*-- into his pocket and waved his hands placatingly.

Was there another Heir all this time? Is that why I was given no chance to protect Mar? Were my child and I expendable?

"Didn't mean to bother you," the kid apologized, "We'll just uh- huh. Actually, where are we?"

And then he looked to the door rather than Damas.

"Hey Oracle!" he shouted, and Damas was glad no monks were present to hear this and faint at the impertinance.

"Where the rot are we?"

Alright. This was now officially more of a problem than he'd first thought. Not even the monks were supposed to have found that Oracle down there.

One of the past Heirs who never inherited the throne had sealed it up the moment he discovered it long ago. After all, the discovery of light and dark eco being opposite poles of one energy might have thrown society into chaos and they didn't want to deal with the fallout. Even Damas was leery of reintroducing that knowledge outside of the Arena yet. Apparently this trespasser had no such thoughts.

He spoke to Oracles -- or pretended he did.

He held and used an amulet.

The boy was a mystery. And Damas hated not having the answers.

"You," Damas decided, wearing anger like a shield, "are coming with me. You have questions to answer."

The boy balked.

"No!"

He dodged before Damas could seize his arm, stumbling back amidst the columns.

"Uh-uh, I'm not falling for that."

"Falling for what?"

Damas was genuinely confused, and more than a little irritated.

The boy continued to back away.

"No, no I know how this goes. You're gonna take me back to the Haven Council, aren't you!"

*

"Haven?!" Damas sputtered, "Why the bleeding rot would I want to go there?! I'm taking you to my city!"

That didn't reassure the kid, who apparently was not fond of the leaders of Haven City.

Well, that was at least a bare minimum of common ground.

"You ain't takin us to no secondary location!" the orange one declared, pointing a skinny digit at Damas.

"The last time I got transported to a new place, I got kidnapped and experimented on for two years," his friend agreed.

Embleer Frith.

Damas stared at the boy. He squinted, as if that would give him insight into the unsettling response, then shook his head.

"You what?!"

What was he talking about? Experimented on?! That would explain the sudden shift from curiosity to distrust. But why-?

Damas knew. Deep down, he thought he knew.

If the boy was an Heir -- and he didn't even want to entertain the thought, but it had to be acknowledged as a possibility -- then that alone would be motive for someone like Praxis to torture even a young man -- or young boy?

If he was still obsessed with creating the ultimate war-sage, then an unclaimed and unattended Heir of Mar would be invaluable.

But if Praxis had been so focused on an older Heir, then perhaps it at least meant that he'd never gotten his hands on Mar.

That there was a stab of shame to follow that whisper of relief was an unsettling proof that he had not successfully hardened his heart as much as he'd thought.

"You came here from Haven?" he asked.

"Yeah?"

Thoughts of a breach in their defenses sickened him.

"And others will follow in pursuit of you?"

This time both trespassers scoffed.

"Only if they feel like sharpening their reaction time enough for a volcanic subrail," the hu'men said. He almost smiled.

The orange one nodded. "Jak here's the best driver there is! Also the most demolition-happy, but nobody's perfect."

Jak?

Now that was a name his spies had been mentioning a lot in their reports. An alleged juggernaut who had turned the Baron's own secret project against him and -- rumor had it -- even destroyed the metalhead nest.

Damas had been expecting someone a little...older.

* the "Good Grandmother" Damas is referencing is a spirit I made up for the Wasteland called Má Crocadeer. Fairly grisly figure with a crocadeer skull wreathed in flowers for a head, and a crocadeer's legs and tail. Her purpose is to punish those who deliberately cause or inflict harm on children. There's a lot of people in Haven who should avoid the desert for this reason.

[randomfoggytiger]

"Tofutti Rice Dreamsicle"

Inspired by @wonderxphile's prompt ("Someone recognizes them from their movie.")

*****

They were dipping and licking their way through a bowl of frozen yogurt-- Scully hadn't kicked her on-again, off-again health food craze, thirty years in-- when an enthusiastic teenager accosted them by the exit.

"Are you Fox Mulder and Dana Scully?"

Both stared at her, hesitant, pinching impossibly tiny spoons between their fingers.

"I saw your movie-- y'know, The Lazarus Bowl? You guys were awesome!"

"Uh, thank you," Scully thawed, watching as Mulder began scraping the container unnecessarily.

"Did you guys really make out in a coffin underground?" A few loiterers looked over, perplexed or amused or personally insulted depending on the ages of the children they wrangled.

"No. No, that was... one of the changes the writers decided to make." Noticing her partner was about to comment, she quickly decided they had an emergency. "It was nice to meet you--"

"Hailey!"

"--Hailey. But we have a meeting we need to get back to--"

True to form, Mulder slid his two cents in. "With A.D. Skinman."

"--that we're probably running late for--"

"At the FBI? Is it about another Z File?"

She didn't remember that bit from the movie. "Yes, well. Goodbye, Hailey." And with a polite nod and swift handshake, Scully bolted from the shop as fast as her heels allowed.

Which, given the ache in her right knee, wasn't very far before Mulder's stork legs caught up.

"Z File?"

"A.D. Skinman?"

He shrugged, wiping a sticky finger against his jacket. "Well, some things never change."

She shrugged. "The ice cream's better."

Mulder stared at her, pityingly. "Scully, that yogurt tasted like death."

*****

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

Tagging: @today-in-fic

[therantingsage]

Another! Updated! Guy!!!!!!!!! Initially tried reworking them entirely but I kinda hated it. So I switched back to just adding onto the design I had before.

Pre-chapter 7's bodycraft stuff. Probably my favorite iteration so far!!!

((fic by @protectorcraft))

[kyouka-supremacy]

Tangentially related to the last Beast sskk post, just something that has been going through my mind A LOT in the last period:

There's this tendency I see of characterizing post-Beast sskk as being on very bad terms with each other, keeping on hating each other even after Dazai's death, and I personally can't relate with that interpretation. To me the canon Beast sskk development is, more or less, a warming up to each other speedrun. All the issues they used to have, about being on opposites sides, about having contrasting ethics, were already sorted up in canon, violently and unmercifully, but most importantly thoroughly and definitely. I find it very easy to believe they'd get along post canon, because everything they had to sort out between them, they already did fully.

When I say that Beast sskk is more or less a warming up to each other speedrun, it's also in the perspective of Beast sskk being a general speedrun to what sskk are in the canon timeline: because I do believe sskk's is a progression towards warming up to each other¹, and in a lot of ways it's already visible in canon, through Atsushi helping Akutagawa in the cannibalism arc despite allegedly hating to work with him, through Akutagawa dying so that Atsushi could escape, through Atsushi wearing Rashomon and Akutagawa letting him wear it and everything that entails. The thing is, when it comes to them, Beast sskk have already seen each other bare; they HAVE seen each other at their lowest point already. If there ever was a peak of hate between them, they've already reached it, and that means the tension is only going to plummet from there. There's nothing left for hate anymore, only for understanding and compassion and love.

“More or less” of a speedrun, that is, because honestly? Beast sskk never needed to warm up to each other, because they didn't start from hating, wholly and sincerely, each other like their canon counterparts did. Beast sskk started from a place of common ground, of genuine sympathy and liking for each other. When they started fighting, I think they were both pained from having to fight each other, who shortly beforehand they had found so easy to relate to and most importantly who they felt understood from. If they hated each other at some point - which, everything accounted, is still realistic, especially given the threat they both posed to their little sisters and more generally to their weaknesses and insecurities -, all accounted it was still brief (literally. didn't last more than half a day), and likely easy to leave behind. In the end I just think for Beast sskk it's going to be easy - spontaneous, even -, to go back to the warm acceptance and understanding they shared on their first meeting; because, differently from their canon counterparts, they know that in normal circumstances they get along, and that's something they can't lie about to themselves and pretend it's not true. They can't lie to themselves about hating each other like canon sskk do; so really, Beast sskk is left no other choice than to get along.

As a final note, I think it would also be easier for Beast sskk to get along because Beast Atsushi doesn't feel to be on an higher moral pedestal like his canon counterpart does, so a lot of moral conflict between Atsushi and Akutagawa simply doesn't happen in Beast.

¹ In a way that, for comparison, skk aren't, who remained more or less frozen on the stance of “hating you (that is also loving you)”. Regarding that, I agree with the interpretation of canon some people offered that the manga is the story of sskk's progression, while skk's relationship is already fully developed.

[caer-gai]

So a fun fact about me is before I had a Tumblr I only experienced fandom through AO3 so I know a lot of arthuriana fics. Which has me thinking would it be neat if I did some sort of regular fic rec posting? Idk let me know how y'all feel

[oh-warizoro]

Me, who needs to constantly make jokes about all the angst/drama scenes I write

vs my friend who takes it a step further every time

Translation (last text from) image 1: Now I can only imagine Luffy with a "Make me a son" sign

Image 2: "Zoro, make me a son" sign as an Ao3 comment

Definitely not from my zombie apocalypse series ⬇️

[noeverse]

my mutuals' fics + their fics in my mother language + penguin classics book cover

entre coronas (among crowns) & quemando puentes de un reino caido (burning bridges of a kindgom fallen) by yours truly

la doncella y el muchacho hundido (the maiden and the drowning boy) by @emilykaldwen

jardines de miseria (gardens of misery) by @kingsmakers

el lamento de la banshee (banshee's lament) by @huramuna

lo que sobrevivira de nosotros (what will survive of us) by @blood0fthedragon

translations under the cut!!

Pic 1: A small woman involved in a great war

Pic 2: Two sisters. Two sides. A great war that will change the kingdom as they know it

Pic 3: A change of strategy that will turn the kingdom upside down

Pic 4: A woman, two sides, a dark past and a future of blood and tragedy

Pic 5: Marked by the past, coming back will ensue feelings and acts that will change the dynasty's fate

Pic 6: With war knocking at her door, she will do whatever it takes to survive... and spare whoever she can from a cruel destiny

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Fuga AU, but they're all in daycare / preschool and Alcatraz is just the classroom where they all the "bad kids" go when they're put in time out or miss recess. Cell's the kid that bites his teachers and the other kids way too hard (hard enough to draw blood) and Pac and Mike are sent to time out for trying to steal their teacher's wedding ring.

[pastafossa]

Hey Pasta! i was so glad to read that things have been starting to look up for you recently & i hope it only gets better ♡

have you heard about the fic binding legal scandals happening bc of etsy sellers binding & selling hard copies of fics? i saw some authors are reccomending putting disclaimers on their fics to hopefully avoid legal action being taken against them & was wondering if you were planning to do something like that? id hate to see your works being taken down/deleted bc of peoples ignorance

art like yours deserves a place in the world

Thank you so much anon! Things are definitely looking up a little, and I've got my fingers crossed that my mood will continue to follow it. 😅 Honestly if I could just have a six month period or so where things were chill I'd be SUPER relieved.

And I have seen it yeah, and I've been watching it fairly closely since this has the potential to alter the fanfic legal landscape that we writers post in regardless of whether or not one of our own fics were being sold. I'm well aware TRT isn't as big as some of the fics at the center of the current legal/ethical scuffle over it, but TRT is popular enough in the fandom that I've kept an eye out on etsy for bound copies just in case. I'm still supportive of people binding TRT for personal, non-commercial use only where no money changes hands, I have no issue with that. That being said, I am considering slapping a general, 'please don't do this commercially' on the fic. I honestly have no idea whether it would actually protect the fic or not, and whether or not that would protect me from legal blowback (my life for a lawyer matt boyfriend to explain this shit). But it wouldn't hurt to remind people that this sort of thing is how you get fics taken down. 99.999% of fic authors do not have the funds to fight someone like the Mouse even if they'd eventually win. So, as much as I joke about wanting Feige to notice TRT and hire me to write Jane into Daredevil, if allllll of us want TRT finished, we need to all play by the rules, especially as Born Again will likely give the fandom (and potentially TRT) a boost in popularity.

[squiblez]

Matchmaker: reader goes to April's college and is infamous for being a matchmaker for classmates, despite that she's never dated anyone and Leo takes this as a challenge, Leo is a flirt and would 100% be into the tsundere/love shy type

Amnesia: reader wakes up with no memory of the last few years including befriending the turtles, reader used to be their enemy and now Leo and company have to help them readjust to hero life (I realized a lot of fics just plop you into the middle of knowing everyone and everything and thought of this)

Apocalypse Parents: takes place in the bad timeline (years before the end tho), reader finds a young Casey scavenging and tries to help him thinking he's on his own, (future)Leo thinks she's trying to kidnap him and after some very intense arguing and explanations reader ends up joining the resistance, hijinks ensue

[gutterspeak]

Guiding Star, Tormentor Mine

CHAPTER 6 / ? || commander x daeran. ~3.3k / ~29k total. act 5 spoilers / aeon ending spoilers. just spoilers out the wazoo.

this flashback ended up being quite a bit longer than the other ones I've written so far, so it gets its own chapter. yippee!

I'm sure we'll get back to the cliffhanger from chapter 5... eventually...

enjoy ♡

It was dreadfully quiet. His chest didn’t move. Neither did Daeran’s, for long enough that his lungs began to ache. “I hate you,” he told the corpse at length. He didn’t even dignify that with a post-mortem twitch in response. “Really,” Daeran continued. If his voice shook, there was no one around to hear it. “This– This is vile. Embarrassing. A low so foul it’s taken my breath away. If only you could see it yourself! You look like a skewered pig on a platter with all the trimmings. Ridiculous. At least the pig doesn’t go and spill its guts all over my favorite coat, but you... You...” Daeran sucked in a breath through his teeth. He clenched his hands to fists until they ceased their trembling. “...I hate you,” he said again. Then, he set to work.

READ ON AO3 || from the beginning

[crimeboys]

monsterloot fic masterpost

multi-chapter

ignite the light: dsmp, canon divergence/reincarnation au/political drama, techno-centric sbi, where technoblade is new in town and everyone keeps trying to make his day worse (6/14 chapters)

the sun was sinking: dsmp, superhero au, tommy-centric crimeboys + discduo, where tommy has been taken by dream to become the best hero the city has ever seen but keeps having dreams about a man he doesn't know but could swear he does (4/?? chapters)

washed up: dsmp, modern au, wilbur-centric tntduo + crimeboys, where wilbur and tommy are washed up actors and quackity is wilbur's long-suffering agent trying to move them along (6/?? chapters)

ache performing apathy: dsmp, modern au, wilbur-centric sbi, where semi-estranged wilbur comes to his father for help without actually asking for it and finds a whole new family has been created in his place (1/?? chapters)

canon oneshot

it's nice to be wanted (2.8k): dsmp, pre-prison break, techno-centric peerpressureduo, where technoblade and michael meet for the first time

nothing is wrong, all of the time (3.8k): dsmp, exile snapshot, tommy-centric discduo, where dream shares a secret with tommy

26 going on 40 (4.7k): dsmp, post-inconsolable differences, wilbur-centric crimeboys, where wilbur has lost track of the days and tommy reminds him

your world and mine (1.7k): osmp, vaguely in s3, jack-centric rocketduo, where jack gets a wetsuit that lets him visit niki

crime and peace (1.8k): dsmp, post-inconsolable differences, wilbur-centric crimeboys, where wilbur and tommy have a not-so candid conversation about burgers

oh, how i want to be free (24.2k): dsmp, post-prison break timeloop, tubbo-centric cabinetduo + beeduo, where tubbo gets trapped in a timeloop and finds it's not all that different than before

the original and best (of men) (1.8k): dsmp, post-boundless sands, wilbur-centric crimeboys, where wilbur is in utah and haunted by the things he left behind

has the moon lost her memory? (4.4k): dsmp, post-nuke finale, crimeboys-centric crimeboys, where three guys visit a gas station and wilbur doesn't understand why tommy doesn't recognize him

best friends (1.6k): dsmp, post-prison break, tommy-centric clingyduo, where tommy visits a sick friend

a good pillow (3k): dsmp, post-prison break, techno-centric emerald duo, where steve is mad at technoblade and phil clowns him for it

our Love is God (354 words): dsmp, poem, wilbur-centric crimeboys, where wilbur haunts a body that is a country that is a brother

squeeze (3.2k): dsmp, post-inconsolable differences, wilbur-centric sand duo, where wilbur tells phil about leaving, tommy, and how those are connected

we're not getting better (1.6k): dsmp, post-tubbo apology, tommy-centric clingyduo, where tommy and tubbo discuss wilbur

moderation (8.1k): dsmp, post-boundless sands/the end of las nevadas, quackity-centric viceduo, where quackity thinks wilbur is dead and he and tommy decide to drink about it

in the middle (1k): dsmp, set vaguely before inconsolable differences, technoblade-centric bedrock bros, where technoblade and tommy find reconciliation through breakfast

buzz (1.4k): dsmp, set during burger arc before ho16, tubbo-centric cabinetduo, where tubbo and quackity talk about love

three-man operation (4.2k): dsmp, set vaguely sometime after bust, tommy-centric benchtrio, where tommy, tubbo, and ranboo decide to go sledding so of course a heist must occur first

(and burst) (4.1k): dsmp, post-boundless sands, continuation of “squeeze”, tommy-centric angelduo, where tommy talks to phil about wilbur leaving

we can make it up again (5.2k): dsmp, set sometime after ho16/jailbreak, tommy-centric crimeboys, where wilbur gets a cat and tommy is NOT having it

au oneshot

they can't take the sky (4.2k): dsmp, zombie apocalypse au, wilbur-centric crimeboys + quirkyduo, where a paranoid wilbur struggles in the apocalypse and saves a couple of teenagers who return the favor

something like revival (10k): dsmp, modernish paranormal au, wilbur-centric crimeboys, where wilbur and tommy were friends one day brothers the next and now try to make a life in an apartment that may or may not be haunted

flying (3.6k): dsmp, circus au, tina-centric tinarose, where tina is in love with the circus flyer but knows that the job will always come first for hannah

everything you hid inside (23.6k): dsmp, modern + powers au, wilbur-centric sbi, where wilbur secretly has reality warping powers he refuses to use and then he gets deliriously sick

maybe the path is gory (whatever it takes) (6.4k): dsmp, zombie apocalypse au, quackity-centric las nevadas, where quackity will do whatever it takes to make las nevadas great

blood and cigarettes (10.9k): dsmp, vampire + fae au, wilbur-centric tntduo, where it is the 1800s and wilbur is trying to kill the local priest

close your eyes (4.2k): dsmp, hunger games au, wilbur-centric crimeboys, where wilbur tries to give tommy a moment of peace in the middle of the games

the brains of this operation (3k): dsmp, zombie apocalypse au, same universe as "they can't take the sky", tubbo-centric fireflyduo, where tubbo and dream discuss the ways they are similar

as my eyes shut (3.5k): dsmp, hannibal au, wilbur-centric tntduo, where wilbur is having a breakdown and makes impulsive decisions to gain some feeling of control

two guards (1.2k): dsmp, modern au, cabinetduo, where quackity and tubbo are hosting a funeral

the dark of our graves (4.2k): dsmp, hunger games au, same universe as “close your eyes”, wilbur-centric tntduo, where wilbur and quackity dig a grave

neither of us will be missed (23.4k): dsmp, modern minecraft/post-exile au, wilbur-centric crimeboys, where wilbur is a police officer investigating tommy innit for the murder of dream

break me, i am bread (15.3k): dsmp, royalty au, wilbur-centric tntduo, where wilbur is marrying sally, in love with quackity, and terrified of disappointing his father who doesn’t appear onscreen once

[lesbianalicent]

did you guys know that writing is the hardest thing in the world and you should never ever do it

[wolfieisacat]

i am convinced that most of the people who are like "rape fics are DISGUSTING!!! HOW COULD YOU ROMANTICIZE REAL TRAUMA LIKE THAT" aren't victims of SA of any kind like. like they've never been raped. because most of the people who are victims of that kind of thing who have an opinion on rape fics (that i've read from) are like "yeah it's cool"